The climate change of my heart

Melting.

The wax gets warm from the candle flame, and melts away, to liquid, to nothing. Glowing warmly as it does.

I have been working, working hard, at self-forgiveness, self-compassion, self-kindness. And in order to get there, working with self-understanding.

It is tricky work. I have so many beliefs and habits of thought that run counter to being kind and forgiving to myself. Voices that say, "how could I forgive myself? I knew better and I did it anyways." Voices that say, "if I let up on myself I'll get even worse." They are insistent and tenacious, like a smarty-pants teenager who loves to argue and believes fanatically that they are correct in all their views.

But slowly and repeatedly, I am taking time throughout my days, when I have a moment here and there, to sit, to look at past events, far distant and near, and unknot these resentments. And begin, very slowly, cautiously, with difficulty and clumsiness, to forgive myself. to have compassion for the difficulties I face (the same ones that we all face. But it's harder to have compassion for myself going through the same difficulties as others for some reason.) Pain loneliness distraction self-doubt. And as I begin to bring more love to myself, I'm feeling hard walls around my heart melting. Walls of "That's impossible." "I'll never change." and walls of separation, between the me I see inside, and the me I see outside. Melting like the wax of a candle.

I don't think it's a coincidence, that one of the most common symbols I use in my spiritual practice, is a candle flame that I place in my heart.

There are large parts of my personality that are built upon this ground of self-rejection, and the changes that are happening, as that ground cracks and falls away, melts away, are not small. Like a castle built on the edge of an eroding cliff, parts of the castle that has been standing for hundreds of years, are now suddenly breaking off, falling into the sea.



It will be interesting to see what life looks like, after this new way of being if firmly grounded in me. Rather than now, where it's just at its infant stages. Perhaps even prenatal.

In any case, I am looking forward to its collapse with great enthusiasm. Something better will be built in its wake.



Or perhaps, a better analogy, is that some beautiful ancient temple will be exposed by the erosion, having always been there, resting underneath the janky old shack, covered in sandy dirt.